I bring this misery on myself, don’t I? Perhaps it is a guilty pleasure, to make myself feel this foolish. I know better, I swear I do, I just never listen to the wiser part of me. I like to fall for men who are the most poisonous. I like to fall for men who will never fall for me. Hurt me, abuse me, kiss me, fuck me. Tease me until I think you might possibly love me, but never say those words. I need some help, but the only medication is self-prescribed and tastes sour on my tongue. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Perhaps some sleep will help, but when you are this miserable even the state of unconsciousness doesn’t even seem to be a cure. So tell me, what more can I do to myself?